“Who is she?” Wang Ruzhi asked Fang Jing, her voice full of suspicion, wondering if she had just imagined things and it was actually Lu Xunzhi who had made the giant cactus shrivel down to the size of a palm.
Even though this was the second time witnessing it, Fang Jing didn’t react much better. Maintaining the calm demeanor expected of an FSB Deputy Director, his voice level, he said, “Suspected to be Major Lu’s mother.”
Qi Xia, just recovering from his shock, stepped on a piece of rubble and went crashing to the ground with a thud.
The idea that the Major had brought out a beautiful alien girl from the FSB had already stunned him beyond words. Now, Fang Jing claimed that this seemingly eighteen- or nineteen-year-old girl was actually the Major’s mother. Qi Xia felt as if he had just heard the biggest joke of the year.
He scrambled to his feet, still clutching the rubble, while Pu Xin, awkwardly positioned in military boots, helped Lu Xunzhi gather the shrunken cactus.
The same cactus that had wreaked havoc across the city just moments ago was now a limp, harmless ball of spines.
Lu Xunzhi placed it into a containment box and turned to the three still bewildered companions behind him. “Stop dawdling. We’re heading to the next location.”
The people who had released violent-type aliens were malicious. Ordinary civilians would be attacked, inevitably developing hatred for aliens. The fragile racial balance maintained within the Federation would once again be disrupted.
The situation was irreversible; the only thing they could do now was to minimize the damage.
Without hesitation, the group headed toward the next site where aliens were rampaging. Of the eleven violent-type aliens, six had already been eliminated by the hunt team. Four were barely surviving, and one remained—the S-class alien Sunflower.
The area around the Sunflower was sweltering. Walking barefoot, one might feel like stepping on a grill, and ordinary clothing could spontaneously ignite from the heat.
Like the cactus, it was an area-of-effect alien, capable of shooting sunflower seeds. Once the seeds hit the ground, they rapidly took root and sprouted into new Sunflowers. When the numbers were sufficient, they could form a thermal field, incinerating all living creatures within.
Moreover, each Sunflower possessed combat abilities. Any psychic battling them would find opponents multiplying as the fight went on. Though copies had weaker attack power, few could withstand the “sea of flowers” tactic.
Sunflowers drew their energy from stars, limitless and inexhaustible. The FSB’s usual attrition tactics were ineffective.
This was the first time the FSB had encountered such a formidable alien. Using water to offset the Sunflower’s heat proved futile: the water evaporated instantly, generating even more heat. The central square had effectively become a massive furnace, still expanding outward.
Members of the FSB hunt team bore various injuries, and once Fang Jing and the others arrived, they all gathered together.
The last time they faced a problem with this complex was a year ago. The FSB had called in the military to deploy warships for a full-scale bombardment, which resolved the crisis but caused civilian casualties, sparking intense public backlash.
Wang Ruzhi instinctively looked at Pu Xin. The little girl’s effortless handling of the cactus seemed almost surreal, and she instinctively felt Pu Xin could similarly handle the Sunflower.
The little Pu Xin, standing beside Lu Xunzhi, felt the heat radiating from the field ripple her dress, her black hair fluttering in the wind. Even under such an oppressive environment, she remained beautiful, like a painting.
Pu Xin studied the sea of Sunflowers, frowning slightly. “It seems like it’s being controlled.”
Even in a rampaging state, Sunflowers shouldn’t reproduce so recklessly by consuming their own resources, nor could a single plant generate such a vast thermal field.
Sunflowers absorbing energy from stars required time to convert it. This behavior suggested a special energy source was sustaining and forcing them to reproduce.
She relayed her suspicion to Lu Xunzhi, who realized that the underground thermal energy pipelines in the central square could supply sufficient energy directly to the Sunflowers if their roots had tapped into the system.
“Violent-type aliens are proven scientifically to be uncontrollable,” the young man who had been quietly talking to Lu Xunzhi interjected, arms crossed, clearly upset.
Pu Xin looked at him. His arms were injured, his face a mask of blood and bruises, barely recognizable—truly frightening.
At that moment, a nearby virtual screen, usually displaying ads and news, showed a doctor in a white coat.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses, his brow and gaze exuding scholarly rigor. His eyes appeared black but glimmered faint green when focused, and a small red mole marked the corner of one eye, partly hidden by the glasses.
He seemed to be giving an interview. Smiling lightly, he shared his view:
“I believe the current classification of aliens is too absolute. No alien is completely gentle, nor completely violent. Many gentle-type aliens have been provoked into violent behavior.
“Of course, this doesn’t mean we should keep our distance from aliens. Humans get angry too; we can’t demand that aliens always remain calm. Violent-type aliens are not beyond pacification. I encountered an example not long ago…”
“Can humans control aliens? ‘Control’ is the wrong word. Dear journalists, have you conversed with gentle-type aliens? If so, you’d know their perception of the world isn’t drastically different from humans.
“Gentle-type aliens can take human forms. There’s no reason violent-type aliens can’t. Communication enables cooperation. Humans have criminal organizations; why can’t aliens and humans cooperate for various purposes?”
The young doctor’s frank and forward remarks caused a stir, prompting alien researchers to bow their heads in discussion.
Pu Xin tugged Lu Xunzhi’s sleeve, curious. “Who is he?”
Quick-witted Qi Xia answered, “That’s Ye Hanzhou, the Federation’s youngest alien research scholar. He recently won the Universal Nobel Prize in Biology and is a leading authority in alien studies.”
Pu Xin whispered, “He feels like my little one…”
Lu Xunzhi, coincidentally hearing her, tensed. He glanced at Ye Hanzhou repeatedly, finding no resemblance to Pu Xin, and snorted. “Do you have a plan?”
The little one was angry.
Realizing this, Pu Xin looked slightly bewildered. Lu Xunzhi met her innocent gaze, heart tightening, and said toward the distance, “The thermal energy pipelines have been cut. The Sunflower’s thermal field is shrinking. You were right.”
Pu Xin noticed that during the moment she had stared at Ye Hanzhou, the rolling heat waves had indeed shrunk, and the outermost Sunflowers had wilted.
The FSB had been paying attention to her since her appearance. Seeing Lu Xunzhi treat her specially, their curiosity grew.
Pu Xin shook her head. “It’s still in a state of lost consciousness.” Aliens in this state couldn’t communicate with the outside world. She avoided using the word “control,” following Ye Hanzhou’s logic.
She didn’t notice some in the crowd watching her words intently.
“Still, I can try.” Lifting her skirt slightly, she stepped forward awkwardly in her military boots. The heat waves gradually halted.
Fang Jing remained expressionless.
Qi Xia and Wang Ruzhi were slightly calmer.
The rest of the FSB team gawked in astonishment.
A subtle, unidentifiable smile appeared on Lu Xunzhi’s face as he quickly moved behind her. “Tell me immediately if there’s danger.”
Pu Xin climbed along a pole, releasing her skirt to grab Lu Xunzhi’s hand. He paused, allowing her to hold on.
Lu Xunzhi realized the little alien wasn’t just light—her hand was incredibly small. He could easily wrap her palm in his. Unlike a mother, she felt more like a daughter.
Of course, he couldn’t possibly have an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old daughter.
Without sufficient energy, the heat waves gradually contracted, and the outer Sunflowers slowly withered. The FSB team followed closely.
Pu Xin continued forward until she reached the giant Sunflower with a three-meter-wide flower disk amid the smaller ones.
It appeared wilted; most seeds were gone, petals drooping, yet heat still concentrated at its center, seemingly ready to shoot out more seeds.
Pu Xin studied the empty disk calmly. “You’re going to die.”
Emotions between aliens were usually detached. They disregarded the deaths of their kind. Only mother and seed shared deep bonds. Once the seed matured and could fly independently, even the mother wouldn’t intervene.
The Sunflower drooped, unmoved by her words. Pu Xin held Lu Xunzhi’s hand and continued forward. The surrounding restrained heat waves, guided by some mysterious force, rolled and contracted toward the Sunflower.
The FSB members gaped like toads seeing the world for the first time.
As the heat concentrated and slowly flowed into the Sunflower, even seasoned hunters like Pei Qin showed astonishment.
The energy gathered into a spiraling airflow. Suddenly, a sharp curved blade appeared within the currents, almost blending with the environment.
Lu Xunzhi’s mental focus jolted. As he grasped the dagger at his waist, several earthen-colored roots sprang up, blocking the blade, then snaked forward, lifting the bloodied young man nearby. A tearing sound followed, and the youth was crushed into a pulp.
Fang Jing’s eyes widened, unable to believe the young man had been flattened instantly by the Sunflower’s roots.
The once-wilted Sunflower, like a traveler in a desert suddenly finding water, perked up, shaking its disk and raising green leaves to shield Pu Xin and Lu Xunzhi.
Lu Xunzhi’s anger, barely forming, was suppressed by frustration. He recalled Pu Xin’s earlier hesitant “I’ll try.”
Try… and she turned the Sunflower into a bodyguard?